


In Want of a Wife

by Inzannatea (Zanna23), PhryneFicathon



Series: Overtures and Interludes [1]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Drinking, Gen, maudlin conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 01:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanna23/pseuds/Inzannatea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhryneFicathon/pseuds/PhryneFicathon
Summary: Episode Tag extension for Raisins and Almonds. The prompt was Phryne and Jack discussing his first marriage. This looks a little more at that question and helps build the friendship between Phryne and Jack that is the backbone of their relationship. This also plays off the quote prompt: “It is a truth universally acknowledged…”





	In Want of a Wife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yeoyou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeoyou/gifts).



“Five years and half a world apart,” she mused as she poured the drinks. “What kind of a marriage can survive that?”

Good question. The war had been over for a decade and yet… 

“I went to war a newlywed” he confessed. He wasn’t sure why he was telling her this. This infuriating woman. This pushy, domineering… _brilliant_ woman. 

She placed a glass in front of him, “But you came home.” She said, trying to absolve him of the connection he was feeling with Saul.

“Not the man my wife married…” God what was it? “Sixteen? Years ago.” He said with sorrow and no small amount of shame.

He glanced at her eyes, afraid of what he might see. Afraid of the judgment of his failure as husband. The failure Rosie mirrored at him every time he saw her now.

Amazingly, he saw… what was that look? Understanding? Forgiveness. Trust.

“War will do that to you.”

Who was this woman? How could she see so much of him and not run away in fear? 

Why was he so drawn to her? She was beautiful, yes. But that wasn’t it. He had known beautiful women before. There was something else. A familiarity, maybe. 

She may have said she hadn’t taken anything seriously since 1918, but that wasn’t really true. Or maybe it was… only because she knew. She knew what he knew—the truth about the world— the truth about life.

“My wife’s been living with her sister for some time now,” the look of shock on her face… an emotional punch to his belly. He was suddenly awash with feelings of shame and failure. 

Maybe this was a mistake… at the same time… he felt relief. Nobody knew. Nobody at the station knew he’d been going home to an empty house for ages. 

And yet… and yet… It felt… better... to get it out. To share the burden. “But a marriage is still a marriage, Miss Fisher.”

The shock dissolved. He expected pity to take its place. He didn’t find it. There was nothing but respect. Where he expected judgement, there was… what was that? Friendship. She lifted her glass in toast.

“Especially to a man of honour,” she said with a small smile.

Jack pressed his lips together in the closest he could come to a smile and returned her toast.

They both drank in silence. 

“What about you? Never tempted down the aisle?” he asked figuring he knew the answer. 

She laughed lightly, “I’ve… had my share of offers. Once we had the money, I realized I didn’t need it.”

“Not even for the companionship?” he asked taking the bottle from in front of her and refilling their glasses. 

“I’m really not the marrying kind. I’m rarely lonely. I have my friends... I have my adventures,” a shadow crept across her eyes as she swirled her drink, studying the amber liquid. “I don’t want to be… trapped.” 

He watched her for a few moments as they sat in silence. 

“What made you decide to start doing,” he waved his glass around the indicating an idea larger than the room, “this… this detective work?”

“Tired of me already?” she smirked at him.

He huffed a short laugh, “Honestly?” He said nodding his head, “No. But don’t let it go to your head.” He took his shot and winked at her. 

Phryne smiled fondly at him and then glanced back at her glass. “My sister.” 

Jack Robinson was no fool. He’d done his homework. He had researched the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher and learned all about the great tragedy of the disappearance Janey Fisher. 

It wasn’t his story. He stayed silent, attention casually focused to let her know, _Yes, I’m listening. Yes, it’s safe. No, I won’t push you further than you want to go._

“It’s why I’m back in Melbourne. The man I believe responsible for her disappearance is eligible for parole. He went to prison for another crime… a related crime… I’m here to stop him from getting away with what he did to Janey.” 

Phryne downed her shot and set the glass on the desk. PIcking up the bottle, she refilled both of their glasses. Jack raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing in protest. 

“Any leads on your sister’s case?” he asked instead. 

She shook her head. 

Jack nodded. “I have every confidence if there’s something to find, you’ll find it, Miss Fisher.”

Phryne smiled slightly before shaking her head to knock away the sadness. “What about you, Jack? What brought you to the force? Family business or…?”

“Ah… no, actually. My father was an engineer.” 

“Train?”

“Civil.”

“And you didn’t want to go into that line of work?” she probed, “You seem to have a good head for science.”

Jack picked up his glass and considered it for a moment before downing the liquid in it. He really needed to stop soon. He wasn’t drunk, but he could feel the warm tingling of the alcohol loosening his tension. 

“When father died, so did my plans for university.” 

“Oh Jack, I’m sorry.”

Jack shrugged. “Plans change. I always liked the idea of helping people and the academy was recruiting… so I became a copper.”

“And a damn fine one at that,” she said with the authority of a toast before knocking back her drink.

Jack raised both his eyebrows in acknowledgment, “You’re just saying that because I let you walk all over my cases.” 

“Not at all, Jack. I saw immediately that you were one of the good ones.”

Maybe one more round. He leaned forward and poured shots into each of their glasses. 

“A man of honour?” he tried to smile ironically, but it came out a little sideways. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all.

“Tell me, Jack. If you aren’t the man your wife married 16 years ago, who was he?”

 _This was a terrible idea._ He looked down at the comically small glass in his hand, and then glanced, somewhat slack-jawed, up at her face.

She looked like an angel with her white cloche and her white fur framing her face.

_No. No.That's dangerous thinking._

He ran his free hand over his eyes trying to knock that image away. The hand traveled through his hair, loosening some from it’s pomade.

“An idealist, I suppose. The way young men are,” he said at last. She’d stayed silent waiting for him to finish answering. It seemed obvious to her he had more to say. “An idealist, of modest fortune in want of a wife… or so I thought. 

“That’s the way the story was supposed to go. Boy meets girl. They fall in love and get married… they live happily ever after…” he trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to say next. It wasn’t really over, was it? It was still a marriage. Right?

Phryne’s voice cut over his internal monologue, “War pays little heed to happily ever afters.”

He grunted an acknowledgement. “The police strike didn’t help matters. Her father is in the force as well… he disagreed with my position.”

“Oh dear. I can see where that would be awkward,” Phryne picked up the bottle to pour again, but Jack covered his glass with his hand, shooting her a reproving look. “Very well… Are you now less of an idealist?”

Jack considered for a moment. “I’m now more of a realist… of meager fortune…”

“In want of a wife?” Phryne prompted.

Jack steepled his fingers over his stomach and considered the question. He had certainly been without his wife for some time now, but… “in want of”? He missed the physical aspects of marriage. He didn’t miss the fights. He didn’t miss the awkward attempts to be someone he wasn’t anymore. He didn’t miss the chill..

Finally, with no answers to give he merely shrugged. 

Phryne stood, straightening her coat as she did, “Thank you for the camaraderie… and the whisky, Jack.” She started to walk towards the door, stopping before she reached it to turn back to him, “Jack?… Dot’s birthday is coming soon… I’m taking her to the theatre, would you and Hugh join us?”

Jack blinked in surprise at her. It was one thing to let her invade his murder investigations, but this was… social. This was something friends did. Is that what they were now?

“I can’t speak for Collins…”

“Oh, pish-posh, of course you can.”

Jack chuckled, “We’d be delighted, Miss Fisher.”

**Author's Note:**

> There were a few things besides the prompt I wanted to touch on. I couldn’t ever find any point in the first season where Phryne tells Jack what’s going on with her sister and Foyle… not until the tag of Misadventure, and then he already seems to know all about it. Just filling in some gaps for my own headcanon.


End file.
